Monthly Archives: May 2012

Density links – process and constraints

Zoning notice from Burlington, VT - CC image from Don Shall

The ‘right’ density: In the process of putting this post together, I missed Ryan Avent’s piece in The Economist, mentioning some of the broader consequences of land use regulation constraints.  It’s a great summary of some of the key issues regarding density, constraints to growth, levels of governance, and our regulatory processes.    The genesis for the discussion is Facebook’s ability to spark a boom in Silicon Valley following their IPO.  Avent documents the constraints to this (and any other development) and the macroeconomic implications.

Avent leaves a footnote about what the ‘right’ level of density is, offering another criticism of Richard Florida’s recent piece on the subject. Avent writes:

Some urbanists claim that it’s important to cultivate the “right” density to boost innovative activity, and that tall buildings aren’t compatible with this. See this recent Richard Florida piece as an example. This strikes me as mistaken on multiple levels. I have very little confidence in the ability of planners to understand what a particular density is accomplishing and whether the “interactions facilitated” by shorter buildings either exist or are large enough to offset the higher real-estate and labour costs to which they contribute. It does not appear that technology companies have had trouble colonising central San Francisco or New York, despite the significantly greater verticality of those places relative to, say, Mountain View. And space is mostly fungible. Even if we assume that tech companies prefer short buildings while professional firms and households are happy in tall ones, the failure to provide ample supply for the latter uses will crowd out some of the former. That is, maybe the construction of lots of new residential and office highrises in San Francisco doesn’t attract a single tech firm to the new towers. The new construction will nonetheless place substantial downward pressure on rents, attracting lots of new people to the region and making it easier to start a business.

The focus on the ‘right’ density for innovation seems quite far-fetched and unsupported by evidence.  Some planners will indeed offer all sorts of reasons to limit heights of buildings, but facilitating greater innovation is not usually the stated reason.

Michael Lewyn offers a line-by-line takedown of a similar line of thinking from Ed McMahon (linked previously here). Well worth a read, despite the use of all caps.

Planning and process:  There are two competing issues that Avent touches on, however.  One is the content of the land use regulations, their substance and their scope.  That is, the kind of stuff they allow and disallow.   The other is the process of making these land use decisions.

Over the weekend, the New York Times featured a profile of New York’s planning chief, Amanda Burden.  A few things jump out: under Burden’s leadership, the planning department has substantially upzoned many areas of the city:

Since 2002, when she was appointed to head City Planning, she has overseen the wholesale rezoning of the city, with 115 rezoning plans covering more than 10,300 blocks; by the end of her administration, the department is expected to have rezoned about 40 percent of New York, an unprecedented number.

However, while the content of the regulations has increased, the process has not gotten simpler:

But that attention to detail has also received criticism. Ms. Burden’s belief in contextual zoning, for example, under which new developments in a neighborhood are required to be in the height and style of surrounding structures, leads to “profoundly conservative building,” said Julia Vitullo-Martin, a senior fellow at the Regional Plan Associationand director of its Center for Urban Innovation. “New York’s greatness as the dominant skyscraper city of the 20th century was the result of bold building, but the local zeitgeist has switched from big and bold to keeping everything small, nondescript and similar to everything else in the neighborhood.”

It has also become common under Ms. Burden’s leadership for developers and their architects to have to negotiate their designs with City Planning. “Development has become a game of second-guessing,” Ms. Vitullo-Martin said. “What will Amanda think of my project? What will I need to compromise on?

“There really doesn’t seem to be any true as-of-right development anymore,” she added, referring to the ability to build without obtaining permits or other approvals.

This strikes me as one of the fundamental tensions of urban development.  Much of it will follow the path of least resistance, building what is allowed by right due to the easier process. Chris Leinberger always made a point to emphasize how reform must make doing the right thing also the easy thing.  This is more about making the bad approach just as hard as the right approach.

In an ideal world, it would be best to make doing the right thing the easy thing; the by-right thing for developers.  You could reduce the constraint of the code’s substance while also reducing the procedural barriers to building – the timeline for approval in New York is significant:

FOR developers, the clock is ticking. Though the Bloomberg administration won’t leave office for 19 months, most projects that require rezoning or other Planning Department approval can take at least 18 months to get through the process. And the administration’s overall friendliness to development means that most builders with projects on the drawing board are scurrying to get them passed before the term’s end, rather than face the uncertainty of the next administration.

However, I’m curious if there is an absolute tradeoff between content and process.  Richard Layman advocates for precisely that – the reduction of by-right allowances with the goal of improving development outcomes.  I’m not sold that the tradeoff is absolute, however – that the only way to improve outcomes is to increase the control of the process over development.  Instead, the bar for by-right development should be higher, but without extra procedural hurdles.

Nonetheless, I am interested in seeing where exactly the borders between those tradeoffs are.  There’s also the question of personality and uncertainty – what does the rush to get approvals before Burden leaves office say about the longevity and sustainability of that regulatory mechanism? Does it become completely reliant on the people in a given office?

Open questions, all – I’m uncertain about the nature of those tradeoffs.

The wrong relationships: Echoing Richard Florida’s points about density and skyscrapers being nothing but ‘vertical cul-de-sacs’, the blog Walkable DFW unloads a lot of reasons to hate skyscrapers, none of which stand up to a closer reading.

An example.  Increased density has diminishing returns for efficient transportation:  this is true for transit ridership, but that’s because once you get to high levels of density, you don’t need transit at all – you just walk. Accessibility wins over mobility.

There are lots of other problematic statements, including some cherrypicked density datapoints from Barcelona and New York, but one in particular caught my eye: “stretching buildings upwards has the same effect as stretching them outwards.” That is, he claims building up is just as inefficient as sprawl:

I often lament living on the 19th floor.  I often walk to work.  But I still experience rush hour:  waiting for the elevators before and after typical work hours (often as much as 10 minutes if a few of the elevators are down, which invariably some always are).

I only bring this up for a chance to link to this excellent 2008 New Yorker piece on the secret lives of elevators. It would seem that this blogger’s building is under-elevated – though I would posit that’s not a particularly good reason to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

 

What do we mean by ‘density’?

Greenwich Village - CC image from lumierefl

A few more thoughts on recent discussions of density.  Better Cities and Towns offers a summary of Richard Florida’s recent speech (video is corrupted, unfortunately – it gets very choppy 1/3 the way through) at CNU. The twitter summary: quality of place trumps density.

Like previous discussions on the topic, I can’t help but argue semantics. Quality of place is no doubt extremely important – but I would argue it doesn’t trump density at all.  Rather, density is a somewhat independent variable. Density is an abstraction, it is merely the concept of how much stuff is in a given space.  For many discussions, whether on innovation or affordability or vitality, I would present density as the necessary-but-not-sufficient condition that makes it all work.  With that in mind, framing some other factor as one that ‘trumps’ (which I read as if I were playing cards: outranks, surpasses) density seems wrong.

Don’t conflate density and design: From the Better Cities and Towns summary:

One of the false statements is that density and skyscrapers are the key ingredients to urban vitality and innovation. “This rush to density, this idea that density creates economic growth,” is wrong, he said. “It’s the creation of real, walkable urban environments that stir the human spirit. Skyscraper communities are vertical suburbs, where it is lonely at the top. The kind of density we want is a ‘Jane Jacobs density.’”

What is the ‘Jane Jacobs density’?  Is it that of her home in Death and Life, the West Village?  If so, it’s worth remembering that the West Village is very dense.  The 2010 Census (easily accessed with the New York Times’ handy mapping tool) shows the West Village census tracts with population densities in the range of 80,000-100,000 people per sq. mile.

My good friend Mike Lydon linked to a review of sorts of Miami’s Brickell neighborhood, noting many of the urban design deficiencies of the place. Craig Chester writes:

Now, I enjoy Brickell primarily because I can walk for nearly all of my basic human needs – groceries, a barber, a slice of pizza etc. It’s also well-served by MetroRail and Metro Mover, both accessible from my doorstep. It’s a rare Miami neighborhood in that regard. But increasingly, I find myself questioning if Brickell is a “walkable environment that stirs the human spirit” or merely just a semi-walkable streetscape in the shadows of impersonal towers functioning as suburbs in the sky.

First, some context.  Brickell’s density from the 2010 Census tops out at 77,000 people per sq. mile in one census tract – surrounded by tracts with much lower population densities.  The max there, in other words, is lower than that of the West Village – and the West Village is bordered by residential areas with even greater population densities.

Chester continues with a number of critiques on the urban design of the area – how the buildings interact with the streets, how the retail spaces are arranged, how the neighborhood makes use of the transportation systems, and so on.  The descriptions are all fascinating, but I don’t see density as the primary (or even secondary) culprit in any of Chester’s critiques.

I increasingly find myself leaving Brickell on my bicycle in search of more authentic urban experiences found elsewhere in the city. Actually, I need to leave Brickell just to go to a bookstore or bicycle shop….

….usually found in “Jane Jacobs” density.

I’ve not visited the area so I can’t speak to the accuracy of Chester’s critique in person, but I have no reason to doubt the descriptions of the place.  However, I think the conclusion is all wrong (echoed by the language Florida uses), and sets up a false dichotomy (and therefore a false tradeoff) between density and place.  Searching for a place with ‘Jane Jacobs’ qualities is one thing, but extrapolating that to some magic ‘Jane Jacobs density’ isn’t well supported.

Don’t conflate density and the ‘human scale.’  Another tidbit from the Better Cities and Towns summary of Florida’s speech:

The urban/suburban debate is likewise false, he said. “Great communities and great neighborhoods pretty much look the same,” he said. They are human-scale, include a mix of uses, and are close to transit. “These are the kind of things that people desire, and it is not just in the urban core that you find them,” he said.

I fully agree that the urban/suburban distinction is mostly useless, but the relentless focus on the human scale is another one of those turns of phrase that can be easily misconstrued.  While there’s some relation to the absolute scale (building heights, etc), the tradeoffs between human scaled look and feel of a place (e.g. design) and the absolute mass of stuff (e.g. density) are not absolute – as sometimes implied. There’s plenty of room to go up, to be more dense, without sacrificing the human scale – the key is in how you do it.

Density (eventually) requires height, but height does not prevent place.  Alon Levy has made the point about the need for height to achieve density at some point. While there’s a tremendous opportunity for the ‘missing middle‘ in most places, many others have market conditions that already demand more space.  It’s also useful to remember that density is just an abstraction of stuff/area – the kinds of stuff you’re measuring can vary.  Tall Manhattan and short Paris are both very dense, but that’s because the tall stuff isn’t captured in the metric of population density:

Unfortunately, this point is easy to miss, since the headline figure of density is residents per unit of area, and residential skyscrapers are rare. Skyscraper-ridden Manhattan and height-limited Paris have about the same residential density, but Manhattan’s skyscrapers are predominantly commercial. Aside from project towers, Manhattan’s residential urban form is mid-rise, with most buildings not exceeding 6-12 floors; this is similar to Paris.

So, yes, we must build up at some point:

To get higher density, one must build higher. Some parts of Manhattan do: the Upper East Side and Upper West Side have a fair number of buildings in the 20-30 story range, and although as Charlie computes only 1% of New York City’s residents live above the 19th floor, the proportion is much higher on the Upper East Side and Upper West Side, and becomes even higher if one relaxes the limit from 20 floors to 12, already well beyond the limit traditional urbanists and high-rise opponents accept (Christopher Alexander proposes 5 as the limit).

Height does not prevent place – human scaled urban design can work in incredibly dense places with tall buildings, because the key elements to the human experience is what goes on at street level.  New Yorkers don’t look up at their skyscrapers because it’s not a natural position for a human.  Our HDTV screens mimic our own physiology – wide, peripheral vision with limited vertical views.  Develop the first 5 or so stories well, provide some setbacks for the taller portions above that, and you’ll do just fine for creating a sense of place at a human scale.  Adherence to this scale need not be absolute.

Beware statements of universality. It’s interesting to see one kind of density (even if people are really arguing for place, not density) pushed out as the ‘right’ level of density.  There’s a big difference between observing various geometric rules of an environment and pushing one’s taste, via observation, as if it were the rule.

The argument about the “Jane Jacobs density” is a great example.  West Village densities would represent a tremendous increase in most places around the US – just not in New York.  New York is the exceptional case.  Achieving Greenwich Village densities in other cities might be a tremendous increase – likewise, maintaining Greenwich Village densities in New York’s context (given the market conditions, etc) is likely a severe constraint on supply (see Ed Glaeser).

So, what makes the ‘Jane Jacobs density’ the right density?  How can anyone even pretend to know what that would be, without considering the context, the market conditions, the baseline of development, etc?  One element of Ryan Avent’s The Gated City that I admire was his steadfast refusal to state which level of density is ‘correct’ or ‘right’ or ‘good,’ but rather to focus on the process that cities go about changing their densities (and how that process is currently constrained by things like zoning codes).

Likewise, Ed Glaeser’s Triumph of the City focused on the market aspects of density, as far as density and overall supply are related.  So long as the cost of new stuff (housing, offices, etc) is fairly even with the cost of construction, then you’ve got a fairly efficient market.  This could be a step towards defining what the ‘right’ density is, but of course that answer is going to provide a different number in every situation.

What would change with driverless cars?

Robocar electronics - CC image from Steve Jurvetson

If we can agree that technology doesn’t change geometry, and therefore driverless cars won’t substantially change the fundamental capacity and spatial requirements of our current auto-based transportation systems, then what would they change?

Chris Bradford takes a stab at this question, taking note of Matt Ygleisas’s prediction of reduced demand for parking. Matt cites the idea of having a driverless car drop you off at a commuter rail station in the morning in order to make use of the higher capacity rail system to enter the city (thanks to the relevant geometries of rapid transit), while the car would then return to your house – eliminating the need for more car storage at the rail station. Chris takes that one step further, noting that with a tireless ‘driver,’ the needs for vehicle storage wouldn’t need to use a set space at all, but could be accomplished through cruising.

While both ideas would reduce the need for parking spaces, they would also increase the VMT for any given trip – either through cruising for parking or for increased deadhead trips, further clogging the streets. This might not be a problem in certain cases where congestion isn’t currently an issue, but it sure wouldn’t help in places where congestion is already a problem.  Bradford notes this:

In fact, this perfectly rational practice will probably be so harmful, so patently selfish, so despised that it will be necessary to outlaw it. Which means everyone will still have to find a spot for his car, driverless or not. Which means that, despite the title of this post, we might not see a robocar apocalypse after all, or a parking bubble, either (other than the existing bubble that local governments have created with underpriced street parking and mandatory parking minimums.)

Perhaps the most interesting application, then, isn’t the need to store a car for personal use (given the issues of storage raised above), but to allow that car to be used productively by someone else.  A driverless taxi, otherwise (hence my choice for my previous post’s image of Total Recall’s Johnny Cab – I don’t know if the new version of the film this summer will depict the Johnny Cab, if it does so at all).

You can already see the convergence of different car ownership models.  A taxi is owned by an operator, they provides rides for hire, charging you for the convenience of the trip in their car and for not having to drive yourself. Compare that to the current point-to-point carsharing model like Car2Go, and the only real difference is the driver.  Both charge based on time and/or distance traveled, both offer point to point trips in a vehicle you don’t own.

While the cost of these robocars would likely come down over time, they’d still be more expensive than regular ol’ human-driven cars, meaning that the trends towards collaborative consumption would continue, and the robocars would serve their best use as taxis.  The value of owning one yourself would be limited, unless you had a ton of disposable income.

As Matt Yglesias put it, “imagine a world of cheap, ubiquitous taxis.”  The net impact would be favorable to cities and those who live in them.  The limits of the automotive geometry and capacity wouldn’t fundamentally change, so this would still be a premium service over much higher capacity mass rapid transportation.  The benefits of owning a car would continue to decline in urban areas, as would the cost of the auto-based alternatives (like taxis).

Urban density and innovation

CC image from Seth Waite

One more round on density – this time focusing on affordability via the tangentially related prospect of innovative and creative economies.

Richard Florida chimed in at The Atlantic Cities, asking this:

Stop and think for a moment: What kind of environments spur new innovation, start-ups and high-tech industries? Can you name one instance, one, of this sort of creative destruction occurring in high-rise office or residential towers, in skyscraper districts? The answer is no. High-rise districts typically house either corporate office functions or residences. During the post-war era, while they were building these towers for their corporate functions, large U.S. companies housed their research scientists in green, low-rise R&D campuses, where the scientists could interact more freely.

The backlash on Twitter was swift and merciless – with plenty of anecdotes of innovative, creative destruction going on in high rise office towers.  Timothy Lee at Forbes noted that Florida is probably a bit sloppy with his terminology here, equating a high rise with an expensive building.  Citing Jane Jacobs, he writes:

While Jacobs framed this principle as being about old buildings, it was really about cheap buildings. Young innovators need to keep their expenses down to maximize the time they can spend on their project and minimize time spent waiting tables. And when they start companies, they need to minimize their rent to maximize their chances of reaching profitability before they run out of money.

So Florida is right that innovators almost never start their careers in gleaming office towers. But it’s a mistake to conclude from that that an excess of skyscrapers makes a city bad for innovation. The innovators themselves won’t move into the skyscrapers, but the construction of more housing units places general downward pressure on rents. That allows innovators to move into the less swanky, more affordable, homes and offices that were abandoned by the people who do move into the skyscrapers.

That is, those older high rises will filter down to lower rents and therefore be attractive to startups and other innovative uses (see the case of Silicon Alley in New York – Florida mentions it as a ‘low rise’ example, but equating that to a Sunnyvale office park is quite a leap).  The actual form of the building doesn’t play nearly as much of a role as Florida would imply.  The jury is out on the role of the city form and urban design (though I have my guesses).

As mentioned above, Florida was a bit sloppy in what he considered a high rise, later commenting that 14-20 stories is fine, but taller heights might not work. Perhaps it’s my time in DC that’s shifted my perspective on tall buildings, but I would argue that 14-20 stories is plenty tall enough to be considered a high rise.  Regardless of my definition of a high rise, the question is then – what is tall enough, dense enough?  David Schleicher and Ryan Avent make the case that you can’t know that in advance.

Some more back and forth shifted the discussion to the tradeoffs inherent to density, but in DC that discussion of density can’t be considered in isolation of other constraints on development – the kind that see low rent buildings redeveloped rather than letting them filter down where innovation might take hold (given several other key ingredients).  The gleaming new corporate office tower reduce rent pressure on the older high rise office buildings, as well as smaller and shorter legacy structures.

It’s somewhat curious to see a discussion about the power of markets to foster innovation when talking about the massive constraints on real estate. The creative destruction of capitalism at its best in the idealized start-up office park Florida described, yet that physical outcome is anything but a free market outcome.  Timothy Lee makes the case that if the real estate markets were more free to operate, the Bay Area would have 4 million more people living there today. The Bay Area’s natural geography limits sprawl and favors density, as well – if given the chance to grow.

That, of course, is a big if. Matt Yglesias takes note of some dense residential construction proposed for Downtown San Jose – precisely the kind of place that you would expect to grow more densely if allowed:

The San Jose and San Francisco metropolitan areas are ground zero for the phenomenon of regulations that provide for an insufficient quantity of construction in America’s high-value areas, so I was somewhat surprised to read an article about the municipality of San Jose implementing an incentive program to encourage more residential investment in the city. Why are incentives needed? The incentives, however, all turn out to be nothing more than temporary relaxation of anti-development rules:

The incentive package includes a 50 percent break in construction taxes; a 50 percent reduction in fees that downtown residential developers must set aside for a park as a portion of their project costs; expedited reviews by the planning department staff and eliminating a city requirement for an expensive air container system for firefighters in high-rise buildings.

What you have here are an explicit tax on construction, a de facto tax on construction, a regulatory barrier to construction, and a second regulatory barrier to construction. The “incentives” are relief from those barriers if your projects breaks ground by 2013.

From Wired (cited in Timothy Lee’s piece above):

As an investor Hartz points to the usual signs of too much money-chasing deals. The billboards on highway 101 between San Francisco and Silicon Valley touting startups no one has heard of. The bus stop signs in tech-heavy locales like Mountain View and Palo Alto advertising scads of engineering jobs.

“Everyone is competing for the same people, going after the same real estate, the same support services,” Hartz says. “The natural resources of the startup world are getting scarcer and scarcer, and the cost is getting higher and higher. It’s all an outgrowth of an abundance of capital.”

Lee’s point (same as Yglesias’s) is that the constraints on some of those resources aren’t as natural as you might think.

Driverless cars don’t change geometry

Via the Streetsblog Network, I came across this Salon piece from Michael Lind praising our future driverless car overlords.  Angie Schmidt at Streetsblog did a nice job to take down some of Lind’s loaded language, particularly the bits about “rigging markets” (which rings just as hollow as the cries about “social engineering” – as Timothy Lee notes, there’s no such thing as an intervention-free infrastructure policy).

Those issues aside, the biggest thing that Lind misses isn’t about technology at all – but rather about geometry, land use, and the relationship between transportation and the built environment. Lind writes:

As the white windmills fade from the picture of the future, so do the bullet trains speeding past them.  Even before the end of President Obama’s first four years, unrealistic fantasies about high-speed passenger rail had collapsed.  Federal funding for high-speed rail demonstration projects has been minuscule and symbolic.  State and local governments continue to conclude that the costs of high-speed passenger rail outweigh the alleged benefits.

In the longer run, robocars may be fatal for fixed-rail transportation, at least for passengers rather than freight.  Google has been test driving self-driving cars in California and Nevada has become the first state to legalize driverless vehicles.  No doubt it will take several decades for safety issues and legal arrangements to be worked out.  But high-speed trains might find competition in high-speed convoys of robot cars on smart highways, allowed higher speeds once human error has been eliminated.  And the price advantage of subway tickets over taxi fares in cities may vanish, when the taxis drive themselves.  Point-to-point travel, within cities or between them, is inherently more convenient than train or subway journeys which require changing modes of transit in the course of a journey.  Thanks to robocars, much cheaper point-to-point travel everywhere may eventually be cheap enough to relegate light rail and inter-city rail to the museum, along with the horse-drawn omnibus and the trans-atlantic blimp.

Paraphrasing Jarrett Walker (aside: his recently published book is an excellent read), technology does not change geometry.  A driverless car is still a car, the geometry that governs the car is the same regardless of who (or what) is at the controls.  Despite predictions about how this technology could change everything (see a whole series of GGW posts), I find the possibility for change to be marginal.  Driverless Johnny Cabs, Total Recall-style might decrease the cost of providing taxi service, but that won’t fundamentally change the inherent capacity limitations of taxis compared against a subway system.

The choice of the taxi as a demonstration for the technology is interesting. Most taxis operate in big cities, and big cities tend to be dense.  Density helps support high levels of transit service and ensures that lots of potential trip destinations are easily reached by foot or by transit, thereby diminishing the market for these automated taxis.  Cars, regardless of who’s driving, don’t have an advantage in point to point travel over pedestrians, transit, or other modes in cities.

The other point Lind makes is in investment priorities for government-funded infrastructure (hence the earlier comment about “rigging markets”).  Lind seems to view the built environment as static, rather than an evolving system that changes in concordance with the changes to the transportation infrastructure.  New York’s subways fueled its dense development, and that density in turn provides the market for high capacity rapid transit.  Given growing populations and constantly changing cityscapes, these infrastructure investments in transit are step along the process of letting out cities continue to grow.

(semi-related sidebar on growth patterns: check out this article in Scientific American on the patterns of growth among subway networks around the world.  The authors concluded ” that the geometries of large subway networks are guided by simple, universal rules.” – reminiscent of Geoffrey West et al)

Density helps provide public benefits

Ryan Avent, writing at Architect Magazine, takes a look at the recently floated idea of putting a Redskins practice facility at Reservation 13 in DC.  One of the reasons for the backlash against the idea was the opportunity cost of a metro-adjacent, develop-able site (a scarce enough commodity in DC) lying fallow for the purposes of football practices. Regardless of the merits of that particular idea, Avent notes that denser development all around creates more capacity for these kinds of public goods.

Consciously, in the case of urbanists opposed to the practice facility, or unconsciously, as is likely to be true of nearby residents, opponents are expressing an awareness of the importance of density to urban life. To make Reservation 13 come alive, there must be people there—enough of them to support local businesses such as coffee shops and corner stores. With sufficient critical mass, the neighborhood might support restaurants, bars, and shops, which could then draw residents from other corners of the city. A healthy density helps integrate a neighborhood into the broader city, which then reinforces that neighborhood’s local amenities. Were more than half of the parcel dedicated to a relatively stultifying land use, critical density might fall out of reach.

Lurking within this compelling argument, however, is an unjustified assumption. On its own, the use of 33 acres for football need not reduce the parcel’s density. Development proposed for the remaining land could simply be made taller. In the 2003 master plan, the city recommends building heights of two stories on the western, neighborhood-facing side of the property, rising to 10 stories on the waterfront side (the property slopes downward toward the water). In practice, the only thing preventing Washington from having its cake and eating it too is a devotion to short buildings.

Not only in terms of opportunity costs for limited parcels of land, there’s also the matter of revenue.  Constraints on development limit the ability to ask for public amenities, ranging from new infrastructure to affordable housing via inclusionary zoning.  There’s only so much juice that can be squeezed from the orange.

Indeed, the core urban logic of density is taking root (“Height in this city isn’t about height. It’s about density,” Hickok said). While a great deal of the discussion has focused on changing the height limit, there’s a lot of potential capacity between the more restrictive zoning and the federal height limit. Avent continues:

Indeed, the scarcity of land that has so energized residents to question the mayor’s efforts is entirely a product of the District’s laws and regulations. The neighborhoods just west of Reservation 13, like much of the city’s residential land, are zoned R-4. This allows for matter-of-right development of single-family homes on lots with minimum specified widths and maximum specified heights. If Washington wanted to do so, it could substantially increase the available developable area. A zoning area that doubled the District’s population density—essentially creating an entire second city on top of the first—would be achievable without so much as questioning the city’s statutory height limit—and leaving the District at less than a third of the population density of Manhattan.

Utilizing modest-in-appearance, yet substantial increases in density amongst DC’s residential areas (mentioned here), we could greatly increase the effective overall density of the District.  But those small interventions (alley dwellings, english basements, etc) won’t produce that ‘second city’ that Avent discuses.  That would require more intense development.

Writing in Crosscut, Ed McMahon discusses some of those forms:

Julie Campoli and Alex MacLean’s book Visualizing Density vividly illustrates that we can achieve tremendous density without high-rises. They point out that before elevators were invented, two- to four- story “walk-ups” were common in cities and towns throughout America. Constructing a block of these type of buildings could achieve a density of anywhere from 20 to 80 units an acre.

Mid-rise buildings ranging from 5 to 12 stories can create even higher density neighborhoods in urban settings, where buildings cover most of the block. Campoli and McLean point to Seattle where mid-rise buildings achieve densities ranging from 50 to 100 units per acre, extraordinarily high by U.S. standards.

The challenge, however, is meshing that modestly tall kind of density (respectful of the federal height limit) with the current structures on the ground.  It would require large scale redevelopment of already extant neighborhoods.  Indeed, some of those structures that DC does have are threatened by the lure of development potential. This manse on K St is one of the last of its kind.

The irony is that the constraint on height (and thus density) in DC is one of the key reasons legacy lowrise structures are under such development pressure.

Google Streetview - Northeast corner of 6th Ave and 38th St

A quick stroll around Midtown Manhattan will reveal lots of really tall buildings, both old and new.  But there are also lots of small and short structures mixed in – since development pressures have the ability to go up (not that New York is free of development constraints – see Ed Glaeser), they don’t have to knock down all smaller structures as a matter of course.

Google Streetview - Southwest corner of 6th Ave and 38th St

The takeaway is about tradeoffs – preserving structures like the remaining manse on K St is a constraint.  It can be a workable constraint, depending on what other constraints are also in place.  But the combinations of affordable housing, historic preservation, a flat skyline, shorter buildings and smaller scale development might not be feasible together.

McMahon’s larger point is one of context – simply plopping a skyscraper down amidst a sea of shorter buildings is a recipe for another Tour Montparnasse.  But context is relative and probably speaks more to the pace and evolution of the change than to the nature of the change itself.  Likewise, additional height might be the very thing that helps preserve the small-lot fabric of a place while still providing a release valve for growth, as it has in many locations in Manhattan.

Avent concludes with a cautionary note about the costs of these preferences:

What the battle over Reservation 13 makes clear, however, is that Washington’s height aversion crowds out attractive amenities—a football facility in this case; parks or museums in others; willing would-be residents, artists, entrepreneurs, and taxpayers in many, many others. It has a substantial cost, in other words.

As mentioned above, this is really a discussion about trade-offs.  Paris is often mentioned as a fellow flatly-skylined city with far greater density than the District today. But would DC residents really embrace the intensity of redevelopment required to turn rowhouse neighborhoods into 5-6 story walk-up neighborhoods?  If not that particular trade-off, then what other trade-offs are on the table?

Should be an interesting conversation.

Rail transport links – carry that weight

CC image from Rob Swatski

Some illustrative links from the world of rail transportation:

From Reason and Rail: Why the freight railroads will never electrify.

This is the problem which freight electrification faces. While electrification would represent a lessening in fuel expenses, especially as the price of oil is expected to rise another 20-30% over the long-term, this is a fairly minor savings for the railroads.

Some discussion in the comments asking if government subsidies would change the calculus.  It might, but perhaps the better question is about ensuring common usage of key track segments between commuter and freight traffic, between double-stacked containers and electric multiple unit passenger trains.

Why commuter railroads will electrify:

Firstly, operational costs have a far greater prominence than do capital costs owing to the nature of government agencies as opposed to private agencies. An investment that is hard to justify for a freight operator becomes much easier for a public agency that is receiving “free” funding from another agency and in the process is able to reduce its operational costs to those to whom it is immediately responsible. In such a way does spending hundreds of millions of dollars to save a few million per year become an attractive financial option.

More importantly, however, is the fact that electric trains accelerate much faster, and electric multiple units, compared to a diesel locomotive hauling several rail cars, accelerate like a bat out of hell.

The upshot of this is that more time is spent at higher speeds, reducing the time penalty for any individual train stop and greatly increasing the average speed, making it more attractive to travelers and increasing its patronage, and political support, as a result.

Alon Levy notes in the comments that commuter lines are talking about electrifying only a fraction of the track that would be required for a transcontinental freight route.  Greater payoff and a smaller up-front investment makes sense.

Some confounding factors: speed and weight.  Alon Levy takes note of three challenges in meshing fast passenger trains with heavy but slow freight – a conflict inherent in mixing passenger and freight traffic.  They are 1) schedule conflicts, including the challenges of meshing disparate speeds together; 2) different track geometries required, particularly superelevation (e.g banking) of the tracks; 3) damage to tracks inflicted by heavy trains.

Another confounding factor: US regulations.  Systemic Failure takes note of a recent US railcar procurement.

The FRA is soliciting bids for a $551 million contract for 130 bi-level railcars. As a condition for the contract, the railcars must be manufactured entirely with American steel and components. If you do the math, that comes to 4.2 million dollars each – double the global market price for a bi-level car.

In other words, the FRA is pissing away a quarter billion dollars. Imagine all the projects that might have been done with $250 million. Imagine all the jobs that might have been created with that money. I’m talking real jobs — not bureaucrats enforcing Made-in-America rules. Jobs like installing new PTC signaling, repairing bridges, or expanding the transit network. You know, things that have tangible benefit to riders.

The really crazy thing is that there is a glut in the passenger railcar market. The last thing needed is yet another product (a hopelessly primitive one at that). And since few operators besides Amtrak will be interested in this railcar, a lot of design and development will just go to waste.

Our regulations prohibit purchasing rolling stock off the shelf from other nations, while our history of divestment in passenger rail has largely dried up rail car manufacturing in this country.  These regulations also make the adoption of the faster electric traction commuter trains mentioned above more expensive and more difficult.   They also mandate inferior performance:

Now compare that to the example of the FRA compliant Colorado Railcar as given in theFairmount DMU study. With two single level multiple units and two trailers, Colorado takes 123 seconds to accelerate to a speed of 60 miles per hour. The Talent, however, has blazed past Colorado, reaching 95 km/h (~60mph) in 40 seconds. Indeed, by the time that Colorado has reached 60 miles per hour, the Bombardier Talent has reached the FRA’s normal speed limit of 130 km/h and been cruising at top speed for 50 seconds.

The implication here isn’t just about speed for speed’s sake – the better acceleration makes it easier for the trains to keep on schedule, improving reliability and cutting travel time.

Constraints to affordability

'Truth' - CC image from Kellan

A few items on affordability and development:

Short term vs. long term: Matt Yglesias asks why we’re not building more multi-unit buildings in the face of tremendous demand, and the answer is (broadly speaking) financing:

Karl Smith, citing me, blames anti-density land use rules. Naturally I would like everyone to buy my book and it would certainly be convenient if my pet long-term issue were also the solution to our short-term problems. But I’m actually not sure it’s true. My reason for doubting it is that the construction undershooting doesn’t seem notably concentrated in the supply-constrained markets. What’s more, every time I speak to people who are involved in the development game, they assure me that the short-term constraint on big developments is financing. People have more or less shovel-ready infill projects and they need a loan. Some evidence for this is provided by the fact that there’ve been a curious volume of large 100% equity projects undertaken recently. What people say is that there’s too much liquidity risk to go into big things.

Financing is indeed a critical element.  Many of those shovel-ready projects are good ones, but the bar is much higher now than it was.  This represents a short-term constraint. Another factor is the considerable lag time involved in putting together complex development projects. That said, this doesn’t mean the long-term regulatory constraints aren’t a factor – particularly procedural ones.

Supplying affordability: Lydia DePillis takes a look at DCFPI’s most recent report, and asks why housing affordability advocates don’t do more to expand the supply of housing overall?

The DCFPI report makes mention of the fact that housing in Washington is constrained by our height limits. It doesn’t take that logic one step further to point out that there are lots of areas where D.C. limits its own capacity to build through low-density zoning.

It’s true, affordable housing people were the driving force behind inclusionary zoning, and smart growth advocates are getting to agitate more forcefully for the city to require developers who want public land to incorporate affordable housing into their proposals. But many developers avoid the public land process altogether, preferring not to deal with all the delays and frustrations. And affordable housing shouldn’t be all about setting prices artificially low—it’s also about letting builders build the amount of housing this city needs.

One option would be to look at the missing middle of density.  Regardless, the overall supply needs to expand in the face of DC’s growing population and intense demand.

Demand and that other thing I can’t remember:  Chuch Thies doesn’t seem to think there’s actually a housing price problem in DC:

The District of Columbia, for example, is a desirable place to live. Unlike in many parts of the country, there are job opportunities in our region. Many of the positions pay a good wage. A robust job market attracts new residents. In turn, the demand for housing increases. Prices go up.

Simple economics.

Perhaps a little too simple.  Simple economics would also allow for an increase in supply in the face of such demand.

But taxpayers should not be asked to spend a dime on affordable housing for young, single residents without children. There are plenty of market rate solutions to their housing concerns. They come in the form of suburbs, group homes, roommates and sacrifices.

Or, you know, we could build more housing.

Affordable for whom? RU Seriousing Me is making more maps – this one focusing on affordability, noting that affordability is relative to one’s income:

 I’ll echo Lydia DePillis‘ call to affordable housing advocates to pay attention to the effect that excessive land use regulations have on housing costs. Relaxing building height restrictions and eliminating barriers to the construction of housing is a good way to make housing more affordable across the board, even though chances are, the free market will never produce housing in DC that its many impoverished residents can afford, which is why DCFPI’s recommendations to increase subsidies for low-income housing production and homeownership are also valid.

Squeezing out the entry-level middle: The Post gets in on the action, too:

Many of the outer suburbs still have plenty of houses in the lower price ranges. But less-expensive homes are very hard to find closer to central D.C.: 68 percent of homes offered for less than $350,000 are located in the outer suburbs beyond Montgomery County, Arlington and Alexandria. In the District, Redfin counts only 862 listings for less than $350,000.

Don’t forget bad regulations that drive up costs: Such as those that demand the provision of parking on-site, like this development in Brooklyn.  The cost aspect is bad enough, but the impact on urban design is truly awful.